Page 12 of Stolen

One corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s not a bad thing, being underestimated.” He moved quickly, reaching behind my ear like he meant to grab something. When he pulled back, a ball of light perched on his palm. He closed his hand, and the light winked out. “Keep your enemies guessing, and they’ll never see you coming.”

Chapter Four

GIVEN

The field was covered in vines again. They were thicker now, the twisted ropes completely covering the grass. The blue sky was gone, replaced with a heavy gray that seemed like it could burst into rain at any second. But I didn’t pay much attention.

Because Varick stood in the middle of the clearing, facing me.

I rushed forward.

“Don’t.” His harsh voice boomed in my head, stopping me so abruptly I tripped and almost went sprawling. By the time I recovered, the vines covered him, too. They hadn’t been there before, but now they wrapped around him from his thick thighs to his broad shoulders. As I watched, one curled around his neck.

“Varick,” I gasped. Excitement pushed through my fear. This didn’t feel like a dream. It felt real. “Let me help you.”

“No.” He spoke in my mind again, his voice little more than a growl. “You were foolish to bring me here, Given.”

My lips parted. “I didn’t.”

His face remained expressionless, which made the anger in his tone that much more jarring. “This place is your creation. You brought me, and you can send me away. Do it now.”

“Send you where?” I moved closer.

“Not another step!”

“But where are you? Tell me so I can help you!”

“You can’t help me.” There was a pause, and I could sense his hesitation. “Tell Laurent…I don’t regret a single moment.”

My throat burned. Whatever our differences, Varick and I had reached a tenuous truce that last night in Nor Doru. He’d helped me escape Lar Katerin’s dungeons after Laurent accused me of planting the solstone dagger. Even now, I was drawn to Varick. The pull was so strong, it was hard to dismiss it as nothing more than the elven blood we shared. It felt like so much more. I hadn’t stopped worrying about him in the two days I’d been in Wesyfedd.

And now he sounded like he was saying goodbye.

My voice wavered. “You’ll tell him yourself.”

The vines under my feet shifted, throwing me off balance. I flailed, just managing to stay upright.

“Go,” he urged, his voice in my head forceful, almost frantic. “Quickly, Given, before he comes.”

“I can’t.” I turned and swept my gaze around the edge of the clearing, which seethed with moving vines. One wrapped around my ankle. “I d-don’t know how to stop this.”

“Yes, you do. You made this place. Look at me.” He spoke in his general’s voice—the one he used to make his soldiers spring to attention. It worked just as well on me, because I obeyed at once.

The vines wrapped around his neck. One trailed up his cheek. His eyes gleamed bright gold. “Unmake it.”

I bolted upright in bed. My chest heaved. Tears coursed down my cheeks. “Varick,” I said breathlessly.

There was no one to hear me. Once again, I was alone in my bedchamber in the Fortress of Aberwas. I rubbed my palm over the tears drying on my cheek.

Varick was alive—and he was in danger. I had to do something.

I left my bedchamber and hurried toward the Great Hall, hastily pulling my robe around me as I went. The sound of voices stopped me before I could round the last corner.

“You can’t keep her here forever, cousin,” Igrith was saying, her husky voice low and tense. “She needs to go. I’ve seen it.”

Rhys’s reply was just as strained. “You’re the first to admit your sight is fallible. And I’m not keeping her. I’m keeping her safe.”

“Are you sure you know the difference?”

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